Magicians Within the Looking Glass
by corkchop
Summary: 50 years earlier, Hope and Arthur are having brunch together in Paris. Arthur uncovers that Hope can do very special magic tricks, so she displays one of her best tricks for him to enjoy, but he pays a dear price indeed-he has to suffer as neither as alive or dead, a cross between, a lure for others when they buy the cursed looking glass. HIATUS
1. Prologue

_Magicians within the Looking Glass_

**A/N: This could suffice as a one-shot, but it will be a multichapter, a creepy or horrific one at that. ;)**

_Prologue_

Hope Cahill smiled slyly at the clean shaved man sitting directly ahead of her in the bustling French café. The air was filled with exotic scents, the inducing and seductive aroma of fancy platters topped with mousse croissants and petite freshly-bakes cranberry scones. The temperature outside was pleasant, with the sun shining just enough for a passerby to feel drowsy in its heavenly warmth. Oh yes, it was quite a fine day for something not so fine to happen, in dear Paris.

"Arthur," she purred, tapping her French fingernails on the smooth tablecloth rhythmically, "Do you yearn to know another intriguing thing about me?"

The man paused for a moment to sip some champagne.

"Yes my love," Arthur Trent dipped his head, though his eyes never sought to leave her face.

She plucked a crimson rose perched on his lapel and curled her lip in disgust. No matter what expression she exhibited, she still looked gorgeous and beautiful. And she was more than knowledgeable to the fact.

"Why in the world are you wearing a faux flower?" she said while she extracted a silken handkerchief from her pocket. It was a classy one, at that. Engraved with her initials in flashy cursive silver, it looked to be quite expensive, and the prime target for pickpockets. "When you can wear a real one."

He stuttered, at loss for what to say to his prudent date. Actually, he did not know why this female chose to accompany him entirely. Certainly not the looks he was in possession with that swayed her.

_What was it?_

She engulfed the frowned upon flower –He believed it to be a worthy fake—within the folds of the snowfall shade of white handkerchief, and treated it with a few elegant twists.

"I am a magician." she announced, "The very best of the best in humanity—or maybe in all of the dimensions." she laughed, as if she was thinking of a private joke only she was in on.

Reaching into the hanky and unassembling the make-shift container with a gentle tug, she removed the rose from the interior. It did not look to different, not even crumpled. She cupped her slender hands, and placed the rose on her palms.

"Take it," she cooed, "Call if a gift."

He took out the velvety rose, and cried out with a gasp, "It`s real, how did you do it?"

"I have already told you," Hope insisted with an eerily calm voice, "I have been called a magician, once or twice. Would you seek to enjoy another magic trick I possess? I have quite a few, you now might know."

Arthur gazed at her mildly perplexed and mostly interested.

"Do go on." He confirmed

Once yet again, she performed a miniscule of a show, manipulating the silky square of cloth fascinatingly. It was queerly fun to watch, the caliber of interest one might show viewing ancient paper brown and burn in the flickering flames of the hearth.

Like before, she plunged her hands within the depths of the handkerchief, producing an article of clothing. A common men`s tie, of the sort. It looked the shape and foundation of any other, but when peered at at a closer glance, the coloring was oddly entrancing. The tie`s color displayed various shades of overlapping plumage blues, moonlight silvers, and milky whites. Combined, it looked vaguely of the deep sea. There seemed to be inhumane eyes boring into the viewer if imagination was as play. This always was.

Hope Cahill stood up and pushed her chair back into the pocket it provided. Gesturing for him to stay where he was, she held up the tie at eye height for him to take in.

"Entrancing." she whispered, "Irresistible. Is it not?"

Arthur agreed readily, "Yes. Entrancing. Irresistible."

Hope let it swing gently back and forth, until it was in an even lulling and steady as a clock`s ticking.

"Just like me." she said

Arthur echoed, his green hued eyes fixed on the attire, "Just like you."

"Listen carefully, my sweet." Hope purred, "You want to wear this tie greatly, it is the most important goal in your entire life."

"The most important thing in my entire lifetime." he parroted

"Life!" she snapped, then regained her composure.

"I am going to put it on you, and the moment I finish, you will wake up, in no memory of these events."

"Indeed." he agreed

She made quick work of his previous tie, undoing it just as the common web spider enveloped it`s unfortunate victim in web fluid. As she performed the task of fitting on the aquamarine tie, all around, the world made a whistling sound of a thousand chimes combined, and the air tinged an aura of midnight blue around all objects. Her skin began to tighten and fade away, whitening rapidly. Spider veins appeared all over her curved immaculate body, scarring her face, and finally forming an intricate and horrifically beautiful series of hairline webs. Then as suddenly as the prior came, they left being replaced by bones becoming more and more visible through the dissolving skin. The body of Hope Cahill, still working tirelessly on securing the tie, began to sizzle letting of an acrid stench. The world around, that should have been terrified, was frozen in place and time. A toothless baby caught in mid-wail, a man gingerly picking his large nostril. As the hollow fingers finished the final knot, Arthur Trent blinked slowly, and then screamed, but no one heard him. The world around him was dead or frozen in a pod of stilled time.

The fingers, no thin and blood-stained finger bones, started to creep up to his neck as if to tighten the tie or fasten it. Instead they began to strangle him. He expected no less. As he was dying, or so he believed, and odd sensation like a vacuum was sucking out his gut occurred. The last vision he saw was a grinning skull, with humongous beckoning eyeholes pooled with darkness crumbling to powder.

Then all he felt was nothing.

_To hell with it._

**A/N: Be sure to check back later for chapter two! And review. Did you know that on my last story I had over eighty viewers, but only eight reviewed? How do you think that makes me feel? Ponder that please.**


	2. Chapter One

_Chapter One_

_Fifty Years Later . . ._

**A/N: *wipes forehead* Whew! I typed this up during class in an hour! Sorry if it`s a slapdash job. XD**

"Your passport please." drawled the official-looking security woman as she held out her palm slightly smattered with wrinkle lines. Her sterile white uniform pulsed a glow of coldness.

"Why exactly do I give you my personal documents?" probed Amy Cahill

If she could help it, no one was going to be able to commit the theft of nicking her passport again. It had happened once prior over thirty years ago, but she would not suffice with it happening again. Thrice would be particularly shameful even more. On contrary, she was well certain that maintaining sufficient health did not cross lines with passports being pilfered. Unless she has been misinformed the past years.

The lady sighing pointed a pristinely manicured finger toward a gleaming five-pointed star fastened on her breast pocket.

"Is that enough proof for you? And no in advance, no assaulting was conducted to secure this uniform. I got it legally, just as another asked me earlier. I require your passport for a last minute after the flight check; we have caught some freeloaders before."

Amy locked eyes and glared, but after a moment her shoulders sagged and admitted defeat. "All right then. But don`t let me catch you holding it too long." She deposited the leathery wallet-sized packet into her hand.

"I would never dream of it." She said cynically

While awaiting the return, Amy slid open her phone and tapped it a couple times viciously before coming to an abrupt halt. She stared engrossed at the picture.

It was a mirror. Not the small kind you could only locate your face, but never less the human-sized one that could accommodated a duo of people easily. The thing that irked her was that it was covered in black paint. Shielded from the world in a layer of obsidian black. A rather slapdash job too, one done in a rushed way. She had just recovered it from a worn temple in the tropical jungles of Peru. Legions of other artifacts were buried there too, half-encased in limestone that would take years to brush off. But the mirror was in perfect condition, apart from the paint, of course. Enwrapped in a burial shroud interwoven with silver thread, and inscribed with the initials H.C. It almost seemed like an oversized handkerchief. She had it immediately shipped in first class to her home. And now she could at last get an undisturbed view of it without her fellow archeologists poking around.

_Something seemed so attractive about it, so drawing. . ._

"Ahem!" interrupted her thoughts, "Are you just going to stand there or move? We have got more people and do you think I am really enjoy checking people`s stuff?"

Shooting her a piercing glance, Amy stalked off. There was a quite a crowd at the airport, as always. Even though she has been traveling the world for a never ending cycle, she could never stop hyperventilating at the sight of masses. They still scared her to death. Weaving through skillfully, she avoided close encounters maintaining an admirable accuracy. She arrived at the entrance and signaled for a taxi. As always, five people started to try to steal her claimed taxi, and waved money at the cab driver seeking his attention. It would have been almost comical if it was not for the fact that she may lose her ride. Wading through, she launched herself into the leather seats and tossed a wad of bills onto the shotgun seat.

"Go!"

And now at last she will be able to get a good look at that mirror, and possibly extract the horrid paint.

_Finally . . ._

/

Hope Cahill cackled, waiting patiently, "Do come, my sweet. It`s been a long fifty years, but I am patient as always. And still entrancing as ever."

/

**A/N: Thanks for reading, and review! ;)**


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